


In The Woods Somewhere

by noxiousSanctity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 10 years later AU, Eventual DADA Professor! Harry Potter, F/F, F/M, First Year Slytherins - Freeform, Harry absorbs the power of the Elder Wand and goes into hiding, M/M, Minister of Magic! Hermione, OP Harry Potter, Professor! Draco, Pureblood/Slytherin Witchhunt, Stay at home Dad! Ron, cryptid! Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxiousSanctity/pseuds/noxiousSanctity
Summary: 10 Years have passed since Harry Potter cleared Draco's name, gave him his wand back, and disappeared from the wizarding world. Presumed dead, a group called the Noble Order begins to try and control Pureblood and Slytherin families to prevent another great war, or great dark wizard.Draco Malfoy has been sent to find the Chosen One, and bring him back to stop the madness.Fuck his life.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 24
Kudos: 116





	1. I Called Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all, I don't know who wrote these books. It's a mystery. I can't believe there was no author. 
> 
> SECOND of all, this is a story about how I think the series of Harry Potter could have gone. I firmly believe Harry would have loved to be the DADA professor, and I think Draco would have been active in the rebuilding of Wizarding society. I also believe they loved each other, in their own strange way. 
> 
> Tl;Dr A strange twist on love, and what power it holds over ourselves, and each other.

“Draco Malfoy, please rise.”

Draco did as he was told. His mother rose with him. Father in Azkaban. His trial at Wizengamot was proceeding slowly; nobody knew what to do with him, a 17-year-old boy who was forced into serving the Dark Lord, but ultimately did not kill anybody in his name. However, he led the Death Eaters into the castle, ultimately being responsible for the death of one Albus Dumbledore. Everyone was still hungering for justice, the battle at Hogwarts only a month ago. They all cried out for _justice,_ but Draco saw it as it really was, a scapegoat. The entire wizarding world was looking for someone to blame, and it was beginning to look like he was going to be the target. And he was an incredibly easy one to hit.

“…We have decided that, in the light of your action and inaction, that you are found…” A pause in the verdict made Draco’s blood ice over, but when he looked up, he saw that someone was whispering to the Prime Minister. Judging by the way her eyes widened, something had changed. Drastically.

The murmurs that floated around the courtroom were like drills in Draco’s ear. Distantly, his mother squeezed his hand.

The Prime Minister stood, her black robes graciously flowing around her. “Harry Potter has stepped forward in your defence, Mr. Malfoy. He is here to present his side.”

Draco’s heart seized up. He barely heard anything other than damning footsteps as Harry Fucking Potter entered the room. Wild black curls framed his tired face, and green eyes were dull with exhaustion. It was clear that it was taking up Potter’s precious time to appear. Draco was sure his mother had something to do with it. He was still in normal muggle clothes, trainers and jeans and strange three-striped jacket. His glasses were slightly bent; Draco had to resist the urge to fix them, not that he could without his wand.

“Minister.” Potter said, tired. She nodded and sat down, and after a moment, he looked at Draco before speaking. “The man that you are judging today is someone who has had trials and tribulations unlike anything most could begin to fathom.”

Draco’s jaw promptly dropped.

Harry continued; grip tight on the pedestal he stood on. “During the last years of our schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco had been given an impossible task by Voldemort; to kill Albus Dumbledore. However, what Mr. Malfoy does not know is that Dumbledore knew the entire plan and let him proceed. He knew that Malfoy would try, and Malfoy would fail to kill him.” His words stirred whispers, deep and quiet and heated. “Draco had been threatened with his family’s life. If he did not kill Dumbledore, then his parents would die. I ask of you all, were you in his shoes and mind, what would you do?”

Potter looked at him again, eyes never leaving his own as he spoke once more. “I was the Boy who Lived; Draco Malfoy was the Boy who Had No Choice.” And even though Harry Fucking Potter had dropped plenty of bombs on the court in less than five minutes, he decided to drop just one more. Moving towards Draco, he pulled out a wand. Draco’s wand. Everyone in the room tensed, including Draco, but Potter just came up to him and gently placed it down in front of him.

“Thank you.” He said, only to Draco. Up close, Draco could feel something different radiating off Potter. Something barely contained, threatening to rip him apart if he didn’t dedicate every ounce of energy he had to controlling it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Potter even as he stepped back, wandless and defenceless. Something nagged at him, and before Potter turned to leave, he saw it:

Potter’s scar had begun to grow.

That day, Harry James Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding world and the Chosen One, completely disappeared from the face of the earth.

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

“…And that, everyone, is how you make a simple Water’s Blight potion.” Draco’s voice was calm, smooth, even as he watched a first year Hufflepuff turn her entire cauldron into ice from adding too much Nirnroot. He was gentle in the way he pulled her away from the disaster. “Remember, you must make sure that all your ingredients are in the right quantity. Too much of something, you overpower it. Too little, and you lose the potion’s true intention.” He waved his wand, carefully murmuring a cleaning spell and helping the Hufflepuff restart. Everyone else seemed to be getting on well with their work, and soon enough, the class was over. Draco saw to it that every student left with all their things, and by the time the door shut, everything was as tidy as it could be.

Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and Ex-Cursebreaker for the Ministry of Magic, was teaching potions at Hogwarts. He tried not to cackle at the irony. If only Snape could see him now. He accio’d a small cup of tea, charmed to stay at the perfect temperature as he drank it, and let his shoulders finally relax.

A knock was heard. Draco’s shoulders promptly unrelaxed, and he said, “Enter!”

He didn’t expect to have thirty children rushing back into his room, much less the way they were all shivering and whimpering. He immediately puts his cup down, moving towards the group. “What’s going on?” He asked, careful not to rile the students.

“H-Headmaster McGonagall told us to come in here. Something’s happening out in the square.” A gryffindor piped up, eyes wide in trepidation. Draco frowned. “It’s the Noble Order.” He almost whispered, and immediately, the situation changed.

“Everybody to your desks, please.” Draco asked calmly. His orders were followed, and before Draco left to check out the situation, he turned to the students. “I will ward this door, and no one except those who mean you no harm can pass through it. I promise you this.” He waves his wand, muttering incantations until it is as sealed as it can get. The children stare at him, afraid. He manages a smile. “Stay here. I will be back.”

* * *

Headmaster McGonagall stands at the front of the gates, poised like a predator stalking its prey. She looks just as regal as the day Malfoy met her, as he closes in on the situation. In front of her are two men and one woman, who seem visibly agitated. “Just let us in. We only want to make sure that this place is safe.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Staut, that Hogwarts is certainly secure and capable of handling anything that gets thrown at it.” Her tone is nothing short of scalding. “Unless, of course, you keep planning to insinuate we cannot hold our own. Then I am sure that we can find some sort of demonstration to prove it.”

“It’s not that we don’t believe you, Headmaster.” The woman, a blonde with beady eyes, steps forward. “It’s just that this school is notorious for housing dark wizards of all kinds, before they come into their power. It is imperative that we don’t let history repeat itself and keep the bad eggs out. Especially with the rumours of who teaches our future wizards and witches!”

McGonagall had the good sense to balk at the statement. “Miss Mock, I recommend you stop where you are. Do not insult any of my students, or those who teach here.” She looks over to see Draco and smiles privately at him before turning back to others. “Their past choices do not define them. If you keep pushing, I will have you escorted off the grounds, and banished from the surrounding area.”

One of the men muttered something about being a dog, but they turned away, disapparating as soon as they could. Draco stepped forward, pulling his long blond hair into a small bun. “Headmaster.” He said quietly. She turned to him, and he inclined his head. “They’re getting bolder by the day.”

McGonagall sighed, fixing her hat before turning to Draco. She was tired, but still determined to keep her students safe. Draco imagined that was what kept Hogwarts afloat under Snape’s reign. “The Noble Order are people blinded by pain and loss. They think that stopping potential bad will cause only goodness to happen. But when we start jailing people for what they _could_ do, rather than what they _have_ done, we lose.” She places a hand on Draco’s forearm, making the Slytherin jump a little. “Mr. Malfoy. If I did not think you were an adept teacher, I would not have sent for you. You are skilled in your work, and you know how to talk to others now. You have learned your lesson, and I will not stand for anyone slandering your journey to where you are now.”

Draco tried not to let those words choke him up. “I see.”

McGonagall hummed before turning back to face the school. “I fear, however, that we will need someone stronger than our faces. Someone that even the Noble Order would listen to, judging that they’re sick with hero worship.” She starts walking back to the school, and Draco is quick to follow.

“Hermione Granger?” He asked. “She’s currently trying to run for Minister of Magic.” During the past decade, Hermione was precise and impeccable as she climbed the Ministry ladder of administration. She was currently campaigning to be the very first muggleborn Minister, and though it was an uphill battle, she was sure to win it. Some things just take time.

“No.” McGonagall said simply, heading straight for her office stairs.

“Ronald Weasley?” He tried again, attempting to remember what exactly Weasley did nowadays. After marrying Granger, he became a stay-at-home dad, sometimes working with George at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. He had become a lot happier as he worked part time and parented full time. It truly was his calling, from what Granger had told him.

“Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall sighed, beckoning him into her office. Snape and Dumbledore’s portraits were next to each other, Dumbledore amused as Draco rushed in after McGonagall. She sat down in her chair and looked at her former student with a certain kind of wariness. “What I am about to tell you is not something that will ever go beyond this room.” The seriousness of her tone made his shoulders tense. “You, I think, are the person I will assign this task to. If anyone can convince him to come back, it’s you.”

Draco doesn’t understand what he’s hearing for a moment. “I’m sorry, bring _who_ back? I hope you don’t mean someone dead. Not even potions can fix that.” He half joked.

McGonagall merely watched him. “Harry Potter.”

It takes a moment for it to compute. “Harry Potter?” The disbelief is tangible. “He’s been missing for ten _years!_ Nobody knows where he is, not even Granger!” After Draco’s trial, even though people searched high and low, nobody could ever seem to catch even a glimpse of the Chosen One. They never stopped trying, though. People refused to believe he was dead, and Draco quietly agreed. Potter was too much of a stubborn arse to off himself. He was likely alive, just… hiding.

Draco couldn’t blame him.

McGonagall pursed her lips. “Harry Potter is the man who the Order seems to call upon for validation. They speak of him as if he is dead, that this was his will and desire. IF we can bring him back, prove to them that he is not what they believe him to be, then perhaps this can be resolved without any real rebuttal or riot. Take the wind out of their sails, as it were.” A demure smile was on her face as Draco gawped. “And have you ever considered that maybe Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley lied?”

“They were under Veritaserum.” Draco said weakly.

“Draco, you know that if one can tell the truth without telling the whole truth, then Veritaserum does not work.” McGonagall gathered something from her desk and gave a small sheet of paper to Draco. On it were coordinates, and Draco looked up at her with a confused stare. “It was true, at the time that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were questioned, that they did not know where Potter was.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you not think that they knew to wait until after they were questioned to find out?”

 _No._ Draco thought blithely. “The thought crossed my mind.”

“I’m sure.” McGonagall stepped towards the door to her office and opened it. “Now, release those children from your classroom and take the weekend off to find him, and bring him back.” She gave him a firm look. “Do not come back without him, Professor Malfoy.”

He barely registered the use of his title as he near sprinted back to his classroom to release his undoubtedly frightened students. He barely had time to start panicking about seeing Potter again until he’d already packed for a short trip, and his hands were sweating.

“Merlin.” He mumbled, scowling. “Of all the people to choose, why me? Of all his friends? I don’t understand.” He stomped out of the castle, luggage floating beside him as he went. “Loads of better people to bring him back. People who haven’t tried to kill him, for one.” Hogsmeade was hushed, Draco the only sound heard. “Someone who _he_ almost didn’t kill. That’s a good idea.”

He looked down at the paper. It mocked him with it’s simple message, as if this weren’t probably a horrible choice.

“Fuck.” He muttered, and disapparated.


	2. Until the Fever Broke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Finds Harry, older and Jaded. But still with the ever-annoying Hero Complex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! I was honestly agonizing over how I wanted this chapter to be, as it was going to essentially be a massive info dump. I hope that you guys enjoy it, and I really appreciate your patience with me. 
> 
> All my love,  
> Nox

_Ten years ago, after the Battle of Hogwarts_

 _“_ _When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his. But the thing is…” Harry’s fingers were slightly trembling as he touched the Elder wand. “The wand never belonged to Snape. It was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore in the astronomy tower. From that moment on, the wand belonged to him.”_

_He could still remember it, clear as day; Draco, lowering his wand as his conscious finally reached him. The way he shivered and shook like it was the coldest day and he was naked in the snow. His eyes were wet and shiny with tears he would not shed, but he was lowering it. He was not going to kill Dumbledore, and everyone on the tower that mattered knew it._

_“…Until the other night, when I disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor.”_

_Ron’s awe was thick in the air. “You mean?”_

_Harry nodded; eyes glued to the wand. He already knew what he was going to do before he did it. “It’s mine.” He heard Hermione and Ron saying something, but he wasn’t paying attention as he carefully pressed both thumbs to the middle part of the wand and pushed._

_The most powerful wand in existence snapped in half easily. Harry only had a moment to consider it before he turned to the edge of the bridge, arm raised to throw its remains into the endless depth below._

_Something lurched in his hand. Harry looked up, and the Elder wand’s pieces disappeared into his palms. He stared at his hands, wide-eyed. He looked back to Ron and Hermione, opening his mouth to speak when his whole being shifted, and instead he screamed._

* * *

Draco could hardly believe his eyes. “Merlin…” He whispered. “What happened to you?”

The figure that stood in front of him in the moonlit forest was impossible to misplace, even with the decade of time separating their last meeting. Still shorter than him, gravity-defying inky curls had grown out to frame his face, hide it from view. He had tanned, that much was certain from the lack of shirt covering his torso down to his plaid Gryffindor pyjama bottoms. His hands were flexing next to his tense form, but that was not what Draco was looking at.

Harry Potter, the wizard who escaped _two_ killing curses with minimal damage, was [scarred down his entire face](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/04/bb/1c/04bb1ca08719786a2d444feee8881033.jpg), like a spider’s web criss-crossing over his skin. And not just his face, either. It streaked down his body, going left and right like an _actual_ lightning strike. A little sliver of the scar wrapped around Potter’s middle finger like a vine, and Draco didn’t realise how intensely he was staring until Potter took a step back, lifting his head.

The scar originated from his very first, deepened with time. “Malfoy.” Potter said shortly.

* * *

_Yesterday_

Draco Malfoy was a man who decidedly did _not_ like to be sent on errands. Though finding the Saviour of the Wizarding World couldn’t be considered a _hassle,_ it certainly wasn’t pleasant. When Draco Apparated, the coordinates took him to a large, rolling grassy knoll with no signs of civilisation in sight. The sun was setting, and Draco found himself at a loss for words at the quiet beauty that surrounded him. His hair lazily dragged with the wind, and he took a moment to fix himself before looking for more clues as to where Harry Potter could be.

It didn’t take long to find a patch of flowers, planted in an odd shape in the earth. It was intricate, strange dips and curves of the blooms that ultimately Draco realised, was in the shape of a snitch. He was almost impressed (not that he would ever say it aloud) by how it swayed in the earth, like it was alive. He took a step towards it, but as soon as he was within touching distance, he was startled to find that the flower patch _moved,_ reappearing several feet away. Where it had once rested was a broom.

“Of course.” Malfoy muttered. “Catch the snitch.”

It took him over an hour. By the time he managed to touch the little bastard plants, he was sweating profusely, cheeks red from exertion in clothes not meant for Quidditch. Though, he had to admit… being able to ride and fly with a goal in mind was exhilarating, and not something he’d done in a long, long time. Not for the first time did he wish he’d taken Quidditch a little more seriously, maybe even gotten a scholarship for it. Stars were littering the sky when he finally caught it, damn near plummeting straight into the ground to do so. As soon as his palm touched the soft, delicate flowers, Draco felt the familiar tug of a portkey, and he had only a moment to brace himself for its dizzying effect.

Draco had appeared in a deciduous forest, surrounded by red, orange, yellow and brown leaves that littered the ground and hid any sign of a road. He whirled about, alarm clear on his features, but when the paper McGonagall gave him started to warm when he took a step forward, he sighed, and began his trek into the woods. The darkness had never truly bothered him, not after all he'd been through, and he found the walk oddly... peaceful. Occasionally animals would skitter by, and the wind tickled his hair, but he kept walking. 

"Ugh, thank Merlin." Draco grumbled. He didn't know how long he'd been walking, only that his feet hurt, and that he was going to give Potter an absolute _earful_ about the conveniences of having port-keys available closer to his hideaway. He gingerly felt the wards, wincing at the sheer strength of them. Were they to keep people out? or to keep Potter _in?_ "Hello?" He ended up shouting, hoping it carried through the barrier. There was no way he could push through, he only had to wait, and hope that-

"What are you doing here?" A voice asked.

_"Merlin!"_

* * *

_Now_

“Mind telling me why you’re outside my home at…” He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Exactly twelve thirty-four in the morning?” His voice had deepened, relaxed, and he tilted his head slightly to the left. “I was asleep.”

The incredulity of the moment suddenly returned Draco to his senses, and he practically spluttered with indignation. “I-you-Are you mocking me?” Potter’s thick eyebrow raised, and Draco felt anger rise through him. “Where HAVE you been?!?”

“You’re starting to sound like Mrs. Weasley there, Malfoy.” Potter had the _audacity_ to joke. Draco felt his teeth grind against each other, the leaves crunching under his shifting feet. “To answer your question, I’ve been here.”

“Is that so.” Draco gritted out.

“Yup.” Potter gave him a slight once over, green eyes flickering as he catalogued everything Draco was doing. He took in Draco’s black chesterfield coat, turtleneck, and slacks with oxfords. Platinum blond hair had been slicked back artfully, though one or two strands fell into his eye. “You keep wearing black like that, and it’s no surprise that muggles expect all magicfolk to do it.” A pause. “It does look good, though.”

“I appreciate the fashion advice, _Potter._ ” Draco snapped, and he barely managed to keep venom out of his voice when the Gryffindor rolled his eyes and sighed. “But I’m afraid right now I get to ask questions. You’ve been missing for ten _years._ After my trial, you just walked out and _left._ Nobody’s seen hide or hair of you since.” Something bleeds into Draco’s voice without his permission, lilting his voice into a different sort of irritation. “And they still haven’t stopped looking, believe me.”

Potter’s eyes softened for a moment at Draco’s change of tone. “And yet, the only person that managed to find me is you. I can’t imagine any reason why you’d search me out, Malfoy. We weren’t exactly school chums.” Another thought comes to him, and he lets a small half smile appear on his face for a flicker of a moment. “How is Narcissa?”

Draco was a little taken back. “My mother is fine. She’s getting on well. Well… she was.” At the questioning brow raising once again, Draco took a deep breath before letting his shoulders sag. He pinched his nose, fingers adorned with silver and green rings. “Potter. Things… have changed.” He let his hand fall to his side, making eye contact with the man across from him. Harry, in response, turned to stare at the forest around them, humming with cicadas and basked in moonlight. Distantly, a river babbled, and even further away, a song was playing, coming from behind Potter.

“Come with me.” Potter said, eyes flicking up to the trees. “We can have a nightcap, and you can explain to me what all is going on.” With that, he turned on his bare heel and started walking. Draco followed him like the earth did the sun; without choice.

* * *

The Firewhiskey went back smoothly, and Draco relished the slight burn it gave him. They were inside Potter’s [tiny little bungalow](https://hotelroomideas.diydiscovers.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/small-house-in-the-woods.jpg), and despite his best efforts, Draco could not find the little home all that garish. It was small, but homey. There were flower beds planted and cared for, blooms of all shapes and sizes gracing the ground around him. Mostly though, there were scarlet spider lilies that seemed to almost infest every other flower bed. Inside, the room was a warm maroon, adorned by an exposed brick fireplace and pleather couch. The kitchen was minimal, yet efficient, and Draco watched in amazement as a flick of Potter’s fingers sent the cleaned dishes into the cupboards. No words, no wand… Speaking of. “Where’s your new wand, Potter?” He asked, eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen one since I got here.”

“You haven’t been here long.” Potter’s voice was soft, but he looked at Draco with a little spot of amusement in his eyes. He poured himself his own glass of firewhiskey and downed it quickly. Draco had to rip his eyes from the way Potter’s Adams apple bobbed with the movement. He parts his lips to sigh, closing his eyes. “Who’s to say I just didn’t lose it?”

Draco gave the Gryffindor a look. “Your wand. Losing it? Sorry if I’m not the rabble that takes your word as gospel, Potter, but I would find that extremely hard to believe, considering your wand got crushed during your horcrux hunt.” Potter let out a little huff of amusement, shaking his head half-heartedly, and Draco’s gears began to turn. “Unless, of course, you thought that you deserved a stronger wand?”

There it was. Potter had flinched. “No.” He said stiffly. “That’s not the reason.”

Draco pushed off the countertop, glass dangling from his fingers. “Isn’t it? To be fair, I could understand the draw for power. The Elder Wand is a far superior weapon of choice, and after you won it from You-Know-Who, I would understand why you’d choose to go into hid-”

“I broke it.” Potter said quietly. Draco’s speech promptly deflated. “Snapped it in half.”

“You… destroyed the most powerful wand in the world… on accident?”

Potter shook his head. “On purpose. Hermione and Ron were there. I threw it off the bridge that led to Hogwarts.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I regret it.”

Draco made an indignant noise. “Well yes, I sure _hope_ you do!” Potter gives him another funny look, and he throws his hands up exasperatedly. “You destroyed a _legendary weapon_ that could tear WORLDS apart!! Harry, you have to know that there’s consequences to that.”

“Now you sound like Hermione.” Potter muttered, sipping at his next glass of firewhiskey.

“Yes, well, Granger _is_ the brightest witch of her age.” Draco snarked. “But you don’t have to be the brightest to not be _stupid._ ” His eyes flickered to Potter’s white-knuckle grip on the counter, and he calmed himself. “I didn’t come here to berate you for poor life choices, though I am admittedly heated to do so.” He moves towards Potter in the small house, feeling guilty as Potter would not meet his eyes. “The wizarding world is in danger, and it’s finally reached a tipping point.”

“You don’t need me to help you.” Potter scowled, sipping his drink again. “I’m in no shape to help you, either. I can’t keep fixing other people’s messes.”

Draco swallowed loudly, the darkness in Potter’s tone enough to worry him. “People are in danger.”

Potter’s laugh was harsh. “Aren’t they always? Look, Malfoy. Your visit has been nothing less of… enlightening. I should have gone a little further out into the middle of nowhere, and I’ll amend that right away.” He flicked his wrist and suddenly Draco was being dragged towards the doorway, glass still in hand even as Potter didn’t show any strain from the show of magic. “So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to enjoy my last evening in this house _alone._ ”

The door swung open, and Draco scrabbled for his wand. Unable to reach it, he desperately shouted, “They’re targeting children, Harry!” The dragging of his body stops. “There’s a group of radical wizards that are targeting and attacking purebloods of all ages, of all heritages. Children, Harry.” He looks at Potter’s hunched back, putting down the glass. “They need you. If not everyone else, the children do. They need a-”

“Saviour?” Harry sneered, half-hearted and without any bite.

Draco considered him. “A friend.”

It takes a minute, but eventually Potter turns around. His shoulders are slumped, and there’s a feeling of general defeat in his eyes, but he does release Draco from whatever powerful magic that grips him. “Okay.” He relents, blinking slowly. “Okay.” A wave of his hand, and Draco is deposited in the plush couch. A fire starts with just a flick of Potter’s pinkie, and he turns to Draco as he sits down across from him on a stool. His shadow looms over the intimate living space like an omen, and Potter takes another deep breath. “You’d best get on with the explanation, then.” He said quietly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

* * *

_The Noble Order. A radical group of individuals that, after losing loved ones in the infamous battle of Hogwarts, concluded that Purebloods and those of Slytherin Inclination were the people who betrayed wizarding society. The period after the final battle was so scrambled, so completely in chaos, that the anger and intolerance was easily hidden in the sheer celebration of finally having Voldemort confirmed dead. This was the case for the first couple of years after Potter’s Disappearance: Some thought that he simply died in the woods, his final heroic act completed. Others said he finally offed himself, tired of the world and its ways. But most, if not everyone, simply revered him as a Champion. A symbol, a pariah to those who lost something, to those who lost everything. And to the Noble Order, Harry Potter was justification for the complete cleansing of Voldemort’s ilk, and his house._

_It started off small; no more than the usual discrimination against Slytherin. People simply avoided them. As time passed, more people began to spit at them, push and shove them and call them all manners of things. It was then that the word Mudblood was used. Being a pureblood only meant their hands were dirty. Muggleborns were soon revered as those chosen to hold the gift of magic, while those of a pure lineage were considered foul and warped; twisted. If one happened to be both pureblood and in the Slytherin house, there was no mercy._

_The breaking point was the Slytherin Registry. The current minister, an elderly man named Driandel Stork, had chosen to entertain the notion of having all purebloods and similarly endowed witches and wizards labelled, as if they were some sort of parcel that needed disclaimers. The point would be to have a list of names and addresses of potential “Dark Wizards” that could disrupt the wizarding world again. It was at this point that Draco knew he could no longer be under the employment of the Ministry._

_He had quit his job as soon as he’d heard, and almost immediately, Headmaster McGonagall had sent him an owl, asking for his expertise as a potions professor. He’d accepted, and been teaching there ever since, watching the Slytherins students disappear like flower blossoms in the change of the seasons. Less and less students would be sent to school to learn. Eventually, none would be remaining._

_Draco was determined to keep that from happening._

* * *

“What…” Potter was speechless, eyes wide in worry. “This all has been happening _recently_? And people think that I would condone it?” He paced his living room, swallowing loudly enough that it was almost comical. “What… where’s Hermione and Ron? Where’s Shacklebolt? Luna? Neville?”

Draco frowned. “They’re all off doing their own thing, but that’s not the point. The fact that they’re organising is scaring people.” He looks at his hands and picks at the skin around his perfectly manicured nails. “There’s fear that there will be deaths, and no one will mourn even if it’s a student.”

Potter is staring at him intently, a finger pressed sideways against his thin lips. After a moment, he pulls his hand away, staring at his scars. “What would you want me to do about it?” He whispered. “If they think I’m dead, I’d rather stay that way. I don’t know what I could do.”

Draco’s head snapped up, and he stood. “What do you mean? Potter, if you come back and make yourself present again, you could deflate their argument. If you openly disregard them, get rid of their moral high ground, you could stop this. Speak out against the Slytherin Registry! Partake!” He moved to Potter’s side. “Help us stop this madness before it’s too far gone.”

Potter looked at him long and hard before finally responding. “What would I be doing?”

Draco smiled. “Professor McGonagall says she recalls you being quite an adept Defence against the Dark Arts teacher in fifth year.” Potter’s face darkened a little, but Draco pushed through. “You would be where the most action would likely be. It could make it easier for you to hide from unwanted guests, too.” When Potter _still_ didn’t look convinced, Draco managed a cheeky little “Hagrid’s taking a yearlong vacation. He said you were more than welcome to use his house if you chose the position.”

At this, Potter seemed a little less reluctant. “There’s just one problem with that.” He said, purposefully avoiding eye contact. Draco raised an eyebrow, confused, until the Gryffindor continued speaking. “I… have a companion.”

Draco tries not to roll his eyes. “You’re allowed to have pets at Hogwarts, Potter.”

Potter stands up, moving towards the door. He’s got a hand on his hip, and he opens the door and lets out a high-pitched whistle. It doesn’t take long for the cutlery to start rattling on the table, along with everything not securely fastened to the ground. “He’s not a pet, per say.” Potter says almost sheepishly. “Do you remember when me, Hermione and Ron broke into Gringotts?” Draco nodded, eyes widening as he grappled for his wand. Potter raised a placating hand as massive white wings came into view. “We didn’t break out by ourselves, and when I was moving in, well…” Potter grinned. “I had neighbours, and it’s a much smaller world than I thought.”

The dragon landed hard in Potter’s front yard, and when Potter went towards it, it nuzzled into his touch, making him hum quietly. The dragon looked well fed, and his chains were nowhere in sight. He looked back at Draco, who went pale in the moonlight. “Malfoy, meet Norbert.” He looked at the d- _Norbert-_ with unbridled affection. “Norbert, meet Malfoy.”

Norbert sniffed at Draco suspiciously before headbutting him straight into the ground and laying his great head on top of the Slytherin. All the air in Draco’s lungs left him in a _woosh,_ and Potter huffed in amusement, eyes still wary. “It seems he likes you.” He said softly. He doesn’t wait for Draco’s reply before gently having Norbert lift his head. “I’ll have everything packed up by tomorrow. I’ll see you at Hogwarts.” He stares long and hard at Draco, who feels pinned to the ground by the indecipherable expression on Potter’s face. “Has anybody died yet?” He asks, quiet.

“No. Not yet.” Draco finds himself answering honestly. “Just missing.”

“Good.” Harry says firmly. “Let’s keep it that way. I’ll see you at hogwarts tomorrow evening, Hagrid’s hut. Don’t be late.” And with that, Harry Potter disappeared into his home, and Draco Malfoy was left on the ground, wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

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